


Practically a Spy

by Laur



Series: Paintball [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BAMF John, BAMF Mary, Crack, Gen, Humour, Paintball, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2178627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laur/pseuds/Laur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I’d known your wife was practically a spy I wouldn’t have invited you!”</p><p>A companion fic to 'The Freak and the Maniac'. This time Mary joins in on the paintball fun. (I couldn't resist).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practically a Spy

“This was an even worse idea than last time,” Sally muttered to Greg, crouching behind the inflated balloon obstacle.

“Well I couldn’t just not invite them, could I?” Greg hissed back, flinching at the explosion of _pop-pop-pop_ 's around the corner. “It was their anniversary and Dimmock wouldn’t shut up about it.”

There was a shout of pain and the pops stopped. Greg glanced around the corner to see Terry, one of the forensic technicians, stalking away, covered in yellow paint. Off a little ways, Greg could see Sherlock and John huddled together, whispering strategic plans.

“Damn, Adams is out.”

“What? He was our only chance!” Sally squeaked.

“Not your only chance,” came Mary’s voice. 

“Mary?” Greg exclaimed. “I thought you went out in the first minute!”

John’s wife smiled mysteriously. “I wanted you to think that. Makes stealth attacks much easier. Sherlock and John are the only ones left on the other team.”

“Holy shit! Nice!” Sally whispered.

Mary crouched down next to them. “Alright, here’s the plan.”

 

“Greg, Sally and Mary are the only ones left on the other team,” Sherlock murmured to John where they were crouched behind a cylindrical barrier. Initially, the consulting detective had refused to come, but when Mary had declared that it sounded like a marvelous idea and that she and John would be going, he had reconsidered. Sherlock was already aware of John’s and Mary’s skills individually, but _together_? The opportunity had been too good to pass up.

“Mary’s the only real threat,” John replied. “Greg and Sally are as good as out already.”

Sherlock shook his head. “Not if she gets to them first.” He peeked around the corner, but couldn't see anything. He scowled as he leaned against the cushiony obstacle – he couldn't climb on these like the wooden shacks and walls at the place they’d gone to the first time. “They might be planning now.”

“Let’s move,” John decided and began a low run, keeping himself shielded by the inflated wall. Sherlock followed him, keeping his paintball gun at the ready and trying to keep the sounds of his feet squelching in the mud to a minimum. They reached a gap in the wall and John paused. “Careful,” he whispered, and ran for the other side. The moment his body became visible, a round of pops went off and a string of red balls flew his way. John dove for the other side, flying through the air as the projectiles sailed over his back, and Sherlock froze. John landed hard in the mud on the other side.

“Alright?” Sherlock asked and his teammate pushed himself into a crouch again.

John checked himself and was satisfied with the lack of red paint. “I’m good. But they separated us on purpose.”

Sherlock looked around. “Go that way.” Sherlock pointed. “We’ll surround them on the other side.”

John nodded and they both headed off in opposite directions.

 

“Alright, they’re separated,” Mary declared. “Greg, stay here and be lookout. We’re going to split up so we have a better chance.”

Greg looked dubious but didn’t argue as Mary dragged Sally around the corner.

“Sherlock’s smart enough to figure out our location based on the origin of the paintballs, so we need to counteract,” Mary whispered to Sally.

“Shouldn’t Greg move then?” Sally questioned.

Mary shook her head. “He’s our bait.”

“What! We can’t do that, he’s on our team!”

Behind her face mask, Mary’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Sally, how do you feel about knocking Sherlock down a peg or two?”

Sally narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I think that's an excellent idea.”

“Well, sometimes winning comes with a sacrifice. Greg is our sacrifice. But it’s for a good cause, don’t you think?”

Sally hesitated. “Hell. Alright, what do we do?”

 

John and Sherlock approached one another at an angle, Greg the creating the point of the triangle among the three of them. The DI was fidgeting nervously where he knelt, paint-gun at the ready as he swiveled his head around periodically. He didn’t think to look behind him. With matching smirks, Sherlock and John looked at each other, nodded, and shot at the same time. 

“Ow! What the hell!” Greg cried as two yellow paintballs hit him in the kidneys, one for each. Yellow paint exploded over his back.

Detective and blogger laughed, but Sherlock froze when he realized that neither Mary nor Sally were close by.

“John!” he yelled in warning.

“ _Ya-ya-ya-yaaa!_ ” A high pitched war-cry filled the air a moment before the figure of Sally Donovan, paintball gun in hand, came flying over the obstacle on Sherlock’s right. Sailing through the air, Sally fired a round of shots, all aimed at the consulting detective. 

“No!” John cried as red paint burst over Sherlock’s chest and the taller man stumbled backwards. John fired his own gun in retaliation, watching the yellow paint make a dotted line along Sally’s back as she landed hard in the mud.

“Ow, fuck,” Sally cursed, pushing herself up. She looked at Sherlock, standing dejectedly with red all over his chest, threw back her head and laughed. “Woohoo! Thanks, Mary!” she cried.

“Oh, no,” John muttered.

 

Sherlock, Greg, Sally, Terry, Dimock and the three other police officers stood in the observation deck as Mary and John battled it out.

“This is crazy,” Dimock exclaimed as Mary did a particularly impressive backflip in order to avoid John’s perfectly aimed paintballs.

“I had no idea Mary was so athletic!” Greg agreed.

John was forced to do another mud dive when Mary snuck up on him from behind.

“Ooooh,” Sally grimaced. “He’s going to have mud in unpleasant places.”

Sherlock crossed his arms and tried not to sulk too hard. He was getting what he’d wanted! He could observe Mary and John perform and strategize and counter-manoeuver each other… If only it hadn’t been Sally to get him out. And Mary had helped! Greg, noticing his mood, nudged him.

“Oi, at least you weren’t left as bait, eh?” he offered.

Despite himself, Sherlock’s lips twitched in amusement. “True enough,” he agreed.

Greg rolled his eyes.

 

There were fifty-two seconds left of the fifteen minute round when John shifted left when he should have shifted right and Mary finally landed a shot. Sally, Dimmock and two other officers cheered while Greg, Terry and one other officer groaned. The losers handed over their bets as Sherlock watched. The consulting detective had declared that he would never lower himself to as pathetic a game as gambling, while in reality he simply hadn’t been able to accurately predict whether Mary or John would win. They were so equally matched, Mary with the better aim and reflexes, but John with the quicker step and more powerful dives, that it had seemed like it would end in a tie.

The married couple exited the arena with huge grins plastered on their faces, both breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

“That was a game, wasn’t it?” John exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah, great fun watching from the sidelines,” Greg agreed sarcastically. “If I’d known your wife was practically a spy I wouldn’t have invited you!”

John and Mary blanched for a second before both burst out laughing. 

Sherlock couldn’t help chuckling, as well. “She married John, what did you expect?”

“Oh, man, I don’t even care!” Sally declared. “I got you so good,” she hooted, poking Sherlock in the chest and snickering when he grimaced. “God, the look on your face when Mary vaulted me over that wall!”

“That, truly, was beautiful,” Dimmock agreed. “I actually teared up a little.”

“And then the way John avenged him!” Greg remembered, shaking with laughter.

That set everyone off, chortling and snorting as John and Mary watched in amusement and Sherlock scowled at the lot of them. “You all are despicable,” he declared, only causing them to laugh louder.

“Well, the babysitter will be waiting,” Mary interjected above the sounds of mirth, “so we’ll have to be going. But thanks for the lovely game!” she said politely.

That had everyone on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! What did you think? I love feedback and kudos.


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